


Mad World

by nuuuge



Series: Frozen Waves Trilogy [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Death, Multi, Sad, not sorry, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuuuge/pseuds/nuuuge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Epilogue of sorts for Frozen Waves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mad World

**Author's Note:**

> You asked for it. :) ahahaha   
> Enjoy. Commnent and Like and whatever else. :) <3

Niall couldn’t believe he was there right now. It had happened so long ago, almost seemed like a bad distant dream, but he knew it was real. He still felt it in his heart at times and looking down at the grass and the flowers in front of the cold stone made him realize just how real the bad dream had been.

Every year he’d come back, sit down, look and touch the stone and just cry. It wasn’t fair that it had happened, but over time the wound scabbed and healed, letting Niall live on. Sure it wasn’t the best life, he felt alone most of the time, but it was his life.

His parents began to work more and more and Niall barely got to see them. It was a terrifying experience to have no one there for him for such a long time. He had his brothers though, all of them, even if it took forever, but he had them there for him.

10 years were a long time to try and get over something. It had been an entire decade. Every year Niall spent living while his brother, his twin, the one he was closest to had stopped aging, decomposing in the soil and every single September, Niall would sit, cry and beg for Harry to come back.

He didn’t show it. Most people had forgotten Harry even existed. When his friends came over and saw pictures they just thought Harry was a close friend, none ever asked and Niall never told them.

Louis had moved out, he was now living with his long time girlfriend, they were even expecting a child. Niall was so happy for them. Louis had always wanted a family. He wanted someone to take care of. After Niall Louis had been the most affected.

He never managed to be himself. Louis would sleep with this stuffed animal that Harry had always slept with. He stole it, in the middle of the night snuck into the twins’ shared room, took the stuffie and then every night cuddled it to his chest.

Niall had been pretending to sleep and the next morning when he saw the toy gone he knew Louis had taken it. He knew Louis cried, because he’d come down with puffy red eyes, tear tracks on his cheeks. Niall knew Louis wasn’t as strong as he liked to be.

Zayn, he was off somewhere with his basketball. He really made it big… well for England. He played in some league in Germany. Not the money you’d make in the NBA, but Zayn was a healthy 26 year old, living the life of a pro athlete, lots of work outs, awkward interviews, all of which Niall watched, and he even managed to win and lead his team.

Liam… Liam was 24, just finished his graduate studies and looking for a job. He was still living at home with Niall and their dad’s though soon to move out, once him and his two friends got the jobs they wanted. Niall knew it and he knew that once Liam left, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

Never before had Niall ever truly been alone.

Sure, as a child he’d often felt neglected, felt alone and cut off from his family, but he’d never truly been alone and gone from them. This was probably the last time he’d be at the cemetery of his twin when at least one of his brothers lived with him.

Niall was dreading it, the day Liam would leave. Liam was the only one Niall had left. Sure, he loved his dad’s but they were so focused on work. Every single day was another day for them to make money to be part of the company and Niall was so proud, but he just wished they’d been around more.

It seemed like after Harry died, the whole glue was gone. No more family nights, no more laughter all of them together. Each boy went and did their own things. Louis with his focus on family. Zayn on basketball and Liam somehow forgot all about the drugs and all he wanted was a good education. Niall didn’t know.

For crying out loud he’d been four fucking years old, how was he supposed to find something he was great at. Something he could do. But he had it now. As he was sitting here by the grave of his brother he brought it.

He sat his butt down on the old skateboard, it had rained earlier in the day and Niall didn’t want his pants to get wet. He pulled the guitar off his back, placed it on his lap and let his fingers strum the chords he wanted and let his voice float over the cemetery.

Most of the days nobody else was there so Niall didn’t mind. He just wanted to show someone and he was too shy, too awkward to show anyone who was actually alive.

Liam was too busy trying to find a good internship. Louis was always going on and on about the stupid baby and over Skype it sounded terrible and Niall wanted Zayn to be there in person. In school Niall barely had anyone who was interested in music, most of his friends just wanted to sit and talk footie, which he didn’t mind, but sometimes Niall had to sit down, take a breather and let it all out.

That was where Betsie, the guitar, came in. One day Niall had just sat, sat and listened to someone strum the guitar for hours on end. Niall didn’t remember where or around what age it had been, but the melodies of all the writings kept swimming through his head and that was how the whole guitar things started. As an outlet of his inner pain.

Nobody would think it. Niall laughed. He smiled, he played his role so well of being the okay 14 year old. He was still young and young people shouldn’t know what pain was. That was what everyone believed. Niall was okay.

And he told himself that each and every single day of his life. It was like a mantra, over and over again in his head ‘I am okay. I am okay. I am okay.’ It was never ending and each morning Niall stood in front of the mirror planting a smile on his face, making it look believable, because it had happened 10 years ago.

Niall wanted to get over it, wished he was, but how was he supposed to get over losing his second half?

Sometimes Niall tried to think back. He’d sit down, without Betsie, and just think. He would try and remember every single detail of Harry. The chocolate curls, the laugh and the smile, his soft hands and those dimples. But mostly, Niall remembered how kind Harry was.

Niall smiled down at the grave stone, saw his brothers name written there and Niall couldn’t help but let a tear roll down his rosy cheek. It was exactly 10 years ago that Harry lost his life and Niall hated every second of those 10 years.

Sure, when his brothers were around and he was younger Niall could pretend to be happy, but at night, the darkness crept in and Niall couldn’t help but whimper, cry and let the tears ruin him. He always let the sadness win, because he knew Harry would never come back.

There were so many things he hadn’t done yet. So many moments the two were supposed to share. First day of school, first crush, first kiss, first hook-up. All these things Niall had to experience on his own in a numb manner, all because stupid fucking Harry couldn’t live a little longer and spare them all this pain!

Niall couldn’t dare look at the words anymore. He hated them so much. Niall was alone and it was all Harry’s fault, because the guy couldn’t live much longer than 4. Niall knew it was wrong to blame him, knew Harry had no say in the matter, but there were times when Niall just had to curse him, because he just wished so badly for Harry to sit here with him and laugh and sing.

Harry would’ve had a beautiful voice. Niall didn’t know why, but he believed it strongly. He sometimes thought of how the two could have sat together, much like he was doing now, with Niall plucking away at each individual string and their voices would mold together, creating something beautiful.

Niall closed his eyes, let his mind go and just imagined an older version of Harry next to him. How would he even look? Be tall and lanky? Most probably… Niall chuckled to himself, imagining a lanky version of the curly haired brother, those green eyes so bright and shining, deep awkward movements when singing.

Niall played a few more aimless chords and then began to sing. He let his voice guide him through highs and lows. He felt depressive, knew that it was showing in the way he would hit the notes turn them darker, his voice filled with sorrow, all because of that day 10 years ago.

Niall was ready to go. He knew it. This had been a bad idea. He thought that somehow sitting here, playing Betsie alongside his brother would finally resolve things for him, but Niall just felt all the more alone. He knew it.

Over the span of the years less and less people joined Niall in his trek to the cemetery. Liam was the first to say no, Niall young and eager, shouting about going to visit Harry. Liam had only shaken his head, said something about an important lab report being due soon.

That year Niall went with Louis, Zayn and their parents. Liam stayed back, buried in books.

The year after their parents were gone. Out of town for a work conference, almost as though they themselves had forgotten about the dead child. It broke Niall, he didn’t know why, but it broke him to go there, one hand clutching onto Zayn’s the other onto Louis’ as his two older brothers went with him alone.

Going with only half the family made Niall feel as though everyone was forgetting about Harry slowly and that wasn’t allowed to happen. If they forgot about Harry, it was like forgetting about half of Niall and the small boy didn’t want that, couldn’t let that happen.

Then Zayn went to Germany. He left them for a sport. For his passion yes, but for a silly sport where one simply dribbled the ball around and shot it through hoops. He didn’t go either the next year, too busy training, too busy playing a stupid game, leaving Niall alone with Louis.

Louis stopped going once he met his girlfriend. She changed something in him. Sure, he still slept with the stuffie. He still cried sometimes, but she made him smile, real heartfelt grins. Niall could head him laugh, knew that Louis was getting over it.

Why couldn’t Niall move on? Was he not allowed to? He was meant to suffer with the heavy weights of Harry’s memories forever and ever. That was it. Niall wasn’t one to just forget Harry no. Harry and Niall were brothers, twins, and Niall would come every single year, even if he was older.

At 14 Niall was still here on that fateful day. Blue eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears, waiting to burst. He knew it wouldn’t be too much longer. Niall couldn’t hold the tears at bay. He never could. He always ended up sobbing, crying and begging for Harry to come back.

Harry made everyone happy. Made him happy. Niall never managed to. He was broken himself after everything, no matter how many times he tried. How many smiles he smiled, Niall was never god damn happy and he just had to feel that elated, easiness once more that Harry brought him, even if just for a moment.

Betsie helped. She didn’t heal, but she helped, almost like a slow healing shield. Niall could hide behind her and let her do the talking for him. Music was easier to communicate through. It wasn’t as direct and these days Niall couldn’t deal with direct.

His phone beeped, startling the young boy and making him jump.

“You’re there?” Niall didn’t have to say anything. Zayn knew.

Niall sniffled, rubbing at his eyes and nose with the sleeve of his sweater.

“You’re alright bud… you’re so brave.” This was always the time of the year when Zayn reverted to talking to Niall like he was still four years old. These were the times Zayn would hold Niall, cradle him close and let the younger man cuddle into him, all his pain oozing from his body.

Niall said nothing, let more of the dreaded tears fall.

“I’m t-trying.” He stuttered. He wished he was stronger. He wished he could be as strong as his brothers who all seemed to have been able to move on. Yet Niall was stuck in time, wasn’t able to ever move on from those terrible nights alone with no one there.

“You’re so brave…” Zayn whispered softly. Niall closed his eyes imagining Zayn there, his calming hand in the blonde boys’ hair and running over his neck, squeezing and letting all his tension bleed out. But Zayn wasn’t there, this was just his muffled voice through the phone.

“Stay strong Niall.” Zayn finally said after a few moments of calm breathing, “I love you.” Niall broke. He sobbed into the speaker, told Zayn he loved him too before the older boy hung up.

Niall wondered how Zayn felt. Was he guilty? Was he glad? Why wasn’t he here most importantly? Niall needed him. This was the one day Niall needed someone from his family and all of them deserted him, left him to go alone, once again, to face the spirit of his dead twin.

Niall couldn’t anymore. He didn’t want to see them. He hated how everything turned out. Niall was supposed to become something. He was supposed to have a good experience.

He went into the school year hoping for change. But nothing came of it. He was still quiet, he was still weird. Niall tried to be like his old self. Happy, carefree and always smiling, always joking around, but that wasn’t what the kids from his previous school had known him as and regarded the happy-go-lucky Niall with disdain.

Niall couldn’t be himself. He wasn’t allowed to be himself, clearly that showed it. No one liked Niall as a kid, he’d been too loud. Louis was always annoyed with him. Liam hated him and Zayn merely put up with him because he felt bad.

No one wanted to spend time with the weird kid. Niall was the weird kid with no friends. A few had tried, but when the more popular kids got wind of someone trying to befriend ‘friendless Niall’ they’d been chased away. Niall was always meant to be alone. In school, at home and that had hurt.

Soon Liam would leave. Niall had heard him talk to their dads about some internship all the way in China. It was something about clean water for the villagers and Liam had even taken a minor in Mandarin. He spoke it, not fluently but well enough and Niall knew that this was something Liam wanted dearly.

Yet Niall, being the selfish asshole he was, wanted nothing more than for Liam to get rejected. He wanted him at home, didn’t want to be in that house, that same exact house in which the entire family had once lived, alone.

Niall could feel the creeping cold loneliness already gripping him at the mere thought of being alone in his room. Of having to watch television all by himself, cook for himself, no one to talk to, no one to listen. It would be him and Betsie.

He looked over to the grave stone one more time, nimble fingers running over the cool, sharp rock. H A R O L D. Harry hated it. He’d hated his full name, preferred Harry over Harold any day.

It looked so wrong, made Niall want to throw something and break it, make his own. His name was Harry, not Harold and whoever created this gravestone was completely useless because everyone who had known Harry, had been close to the boy knew that he hated H A R O L D with a passion.

Almost as much as Niall hated being called Neil by accident.

The young teen didn’t know where the anger came from, but just as quick as it appeared it seemed to evaporate making him sigh, sit back and pack up Betsie so he could go home. He just wanted to curl up, cry those heavy tears and soak in all the self loathing he could. Niall had to.

Zayn told him how strong he was, but would Zayn still think of Niall as strong when he saw just how weak and broken Niall really was. Zayn wa sin Germany. He’d have been the only person to see through the fake smiles, but Zayn wasn’t here, wasn’t there for Niall at his lowest point.

Niall felt broken, shattered. He had shattered that day 10 years ago, a piece of him with everyone he loved. He was being stretched and torn over and over again. With each and every movement of his family.

One piece for Liam who had been there for him, held him and made him laugh. He let Niall forget, but then forgot about everything himself. He just concentrated on his surroundings and the shard of Niall in him was being crushed by the books and all the responsibilities, in turn destroying Niall slowly.

Another piece was in both his parents who were overlooking the poor boy and with every unanswered cry and every unreturned hug, the pieces were shoved back further and further, until there was nothing but a thick layer of dust.

A piece went to Louis, who from the beginning on didn’t look at it, mere walked over it, in the blind search for Harry, but had he looked close enough than in that shard of broken heart that Niall had entrusted him, he’d have found Harry all those years ago.

The last shard went to Zayn. The biggest piece even. He trusted Zayn with his entire being, but when Zayn left, the few taped pieces he managed to mangle together were forgotten, dropped on the floor only to shatter into thousands more.

All this left Niall broken, hurt and oh so neglected.

Niall didn’t know what love was anymore. Didn’t understand it. Happiness, love, all these great things in life were something he knew he could never reach. He was meant to be like this, meant to be so unhappy. The closest thing to freedom and happiness he felt was Betsie, but even she couldn’t keep the true demons of the past decade away, no matter how dearly Niall wished for it.

The boy stood up, dusted off his pants, one last look at the grave and he was off. Leg pushing on the skateboard, Betsie over his shoulder he made his way home. He ignored the heated tears running down his cheeks. Niall knew no one else cared.

He was close to home when he felt it. Something in the wind whispered to him, tickling at his broken heart. He stopped what he was doing, looked around and felt it again, the push of the wind.

It was weird, like something or someone was calling to him, as though this wind was guiding him towards happiness towards the one place Niall could finally smile, finally be real and have friends. It was weird, an odd elated feeling. He didn’t know what it was, but he followed it, followed the wind, his heart.

It was almost as though out of a Disney movie. The wind talking to him. The air more clear, more clean. Niall would have laughed, if he’d remember what it was like to laugh. He would have closed his eyes, whooped with joy if only he’d remember those feelings.

He stood there, looking down and he knew the wind was right. This was it, this was the feeling he’d been searching for. That feeling of freedom, that feeling of Harry. Never before had Niall felt so close to him, so close to his twin brother.

Niall knew it wouldn’t be long until they were reunited.

************

A sharp ringing noise woke Zayn up from his pre-game nap. He sat up, rubbed at his eyes and grabbed his phone. What he heard next broke his heart, made him cringe and cry.

“Niall killed himself.” 


End file.
